


Laugh, I Nearly Died

by solidaritysandwichandpie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 17:23:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solidaritysandwichandpie/pseuds/solidaritysandwichandpie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel has found a new hobby. The Sam and Dean approve of it as long as they aren't on the receiving end of his humor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laugh, I Nearly Died

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a tumblr post by supernaturalthreesome

The first time it happens Sam nearly chokes with laughter.

He was pouring over texts in the library of the bunker when a decidedly unmanly shriek echoed through the concrete walls of the batcave. Sam had knocked over his chair, grabbed the first available weapon and careened down the passageways at top speed, desperately searching for the source of the sound. He had burst into his brother’s bedroom, scimitar held aloft, ready to strike down whatever it was that had evoked such desperate noises from Dean, a cold rage already beginning to spread through his veins at the creature that had dared attack them in their home. He was not at all prepared for the sight that awaited him. Dean, collapsed on his desk chair, clutching his chest and breathing heavy and staring accusingly at Castiel, Warrior of God, Angel of the Lord, who was staring right back, eyes alight with humor and shoulders, noiselessly shaking with mirth.

Sam’s brain wasn’t computing. “What the hell, Dean?”

His brother swiveled his head toward him and fixed him with a deadly glare. “The sonofabitch thinks he’s hilarious!” Sam gaped as the angel held up his hands and slumped against the closet door, dissolving into what Sam guessed was angelic laughter. “Cas, what happened?” “I’ll tell you what happened, Sammy! I was minding my own business, in the comfort and safety of my own home and this asshole waits until my back is turned and jumps out of the closet at me! I nearly had a heart attack! He’s lucky I didn’t shoot him. Just on principle alone!”

Sam glanced back and forth between the two, his brother still rubbing his chest and the angel, in a fit of silent, hysterical laughter, slowly sliding to the floor. “It was hilarious Dean.” Castiel gasped out. “ _Y-your f-face_!”

The younger Winchester’s face spread slowly into a grin. “So Cas got the jump on you huh?” laughter bubbled up in his chest. Then because he couldn’t resist, “Hey Dean, Cas literally jumped out of the closet for you-“

He didn’t get to finish his sentence, he beat a hasty retreat when Dean launched a book at him and laughed so hard he nearly tripped over his own feet twice on the way back to the library.

 

The second time it happened, Sam was less than amused.

They had just returned from what was suppose to be a standard salt and burn that had turned out to be one very pissed off and powerful witch. They had made it out relatively unscathed but the fight had left his muscles aching and his head pounding. All he really wanted out of life at the moment was a very hot shower and a very long sleep.

He was just lathering the shampoo into his hair when he turned and was met with gleeful blue eyes. “Hello Sam.” The hunter cursed and stumbled back against the tile wall, cracking his skull on the shower head and sending shampoo and soap bottles crashing to the floor, the spray dripped suds into his eyes and he hissed and cursed again at the sting, trying to simultaneously wipe the soap from his eyes and cringing, tried to cover his naked body as best he could with his free hand. When he could see again, Castiel’s eyes were looking up at him, dancing with laughter and his shoulders shook, he was bent at the waist holding his stomach, seemingly unconcerned that his increasingly soggy state. His trench coat hung splattered with water and his shoes squished when he shifted from foot to foot, still laughing soundlessly at Sam’s horrified stare.

“What the _fuck_ , Cas?” He managed to squeak out.

Castiel just clutched at his midsection harder and shook furiously, actual tears of laughter streaming down his face before he disappeared.

Twenty minutes later, Sam found the angel seated at the kitchen table and his brother hovering over the stove.

“Hey Sammy, dinner’s almost ready.” Dean said flipping a burger expertly in the pan. “Oh, and I heard you had some company in the shower. Cas said you screamed like a little girl. You know, he may have popped out of the closet for me but at least I’m not the one bathing with him.” Castiel gave a decidedly undignified snort and Dean grinned.

"Not _yet_ anyway!" Sam shot at him before turning on his heel and stomping out of the room with the sounds of his brother’s laughter echoing after him.

The third time it happened neither Winchester was particularly amused.

They were investigating possible ghoul attacks at a funeral home outside of Sacramento. Unable to get much from the locals the brothers decided that a little after hours breaking and entering was in order.

They had split up, searching the entire building for any signs of paranormal activity and had just reconvened in a large room to the side of the preparation chamber. Caskets lined the walls and Dean leaned against one and dug in his pocket for his phone. Sam was studying a ledger that was lying on a desk on the other side of the room.

Sam had just turned to speak when the lid of a nearby casket flew violently open. Both brothers scrambled for weapons as Dean stumbled over the coffin behind him, knocking it to the floor, crashing to the ground with it and letting out a grunt, Sam didn’t even have time to wince in sympathy at the sound of bone crunching against wood as he dove behind the desk, gun at the ready.

He really shouldn’t have been surprised to find a familiar trench coated figure sitting in the coffin, knees drawn up to his chest, shaking with laughter. Sam shook his head and rose, jogging across the room to check on his brother who was still sprawled, half on half off of a casket, gun hanging limply at his side and blood gushing from his nose, glaring at Castiel.

Sam reached down to and lifted Dean to his feet and turned to search for something to staunch the bleeding.

“It’s not fucking funny Cas!” Dean yelled, turning redder by the second. Sam wasn’t sure if his brother’s flushed face was from anger or embarrassment. Probably a mixture of the two. “We could have shot you!”

Castiel waved a dismissive hand and collapsed further on himself gasping. “C-can’t injure me,” he wheezed, “y-you-” whatever the angel was attempting to say was lost in another fit of laughter.

Sam handed his brother a box of tissues and patted him on the shoulder consolingly. Dean sighed and pulled a wad of tissues angrily from the box before tossing it to the side. “Cas, it’s not funny! Sam, tell him it’s not funny!”

Sam sighed and slumped against the wall. “Dean, you’re going to have to have a talk with him about this. It’s getting out of hand.” He glanced over at Castiel who was making small hiccuping noises, still grinning from ear to ear.

“Why does it have to be me?” Dean groused, throwing his brother an indignant look which was rendered significantly less terrifying by bits of tissue hanging from each nostril. Sam snorted and shrugged.

“Dude, he’s your angel.”

Dean groaned and tossed a baleful look at the still snickering angel before stomping out of the room. Sam sighed and followed, leaving Cas still sitting in the coffin, wiping tears from his eyes.


End file.
